A Car, A Kiss, A Death - Lafyette x Reader
by ExtraordinaryElliot
Summary: [Reader] has been best friends with Lafayette since childhood, and has developed a rather large crush on him. After a drunken night and a sleepover, the [Reader] thinks they may have done something. Maybe this is why something people call "bravery" made them think of Lafayette as their first kiss. MODERN AU
1. Long Time Crush

Your mother had been friends with his mother, and so that carried on into your life - you were his best friend, his right-hand person, the person he would go to for advice. Of course, that also meant that he would confide in you about his crushes and girlfriends/boyfriends, and that broke you. It made you sad to think that he would never like you, that he would never think of you as anything more than his best friend.

But you supposed that was good enough for now.

"Are you alright?" You snapped out of your daze, your eyes flickering over to his. Lafayette gave you a simple smile, leaning over the table to study you closely. You felt a blush make it's way to your face. "You seem ... distracted," he observed, his accent clearer than a sunny day. "Is it by my charming looks," he chuckled, joking. You smiled meekly.

"I'm just a little tired, Laf," you lied, using the nickname you knew he hated. He rolled his eyes and sat back - you two sat at a bar, somewhere in America, with two cups of beer in front of each of you. "Ugh, do I really have to drink this?" you asked, peering into the cups. The smell made you feel nauseous.

"Hey, you're the one who bet you could drink more beer than me," he reminded.

"I was tired!" you protested. Your words brought a smile to his face, and you're heart speed up. "Really ... really tired. Come on, Lafayette!" you whined. He grinned and picked up one of the cups, bringing it up as if about to toast. You sighed and did the same, clinking your cup with his and giving him a smile.

"To freedom," he stated.

"Well, since your forcing me to do this, I don't think I really have that," you joked. Before he could answer, you chugged the cup of beer in three swallows and reached for your next one. "Well? Come on, Laf - don't be slow, now."

"Bon, maintenant. Dieu, tu es belle quand tu es compétitive." You tilted your head, confused. While he had been teaching you French, you weren't that good and you certainly couldn't understand him now. He always seemed to slip back into French whenever he was talking with you, making comments that you couldn't understand. "Si je pouvais vous embrasser en ce moment, je le ferais. Je ne me soucierais même pas si nous étions tués par des snobs homophobes qui ne pouvaient pas leur dire de leur tête. Cependant, je suppose que ce serait la même chose, non?"

You cleared your throat. "Laf ... English, please?" He chuckled.

"I said ... that this beer is amazing, right?" he lied, taking a swig. You motioned for the bartender to bring you two five more, each, and he nodded. "The French have so many words for such a small sentence."

"Is that why you like them?"

"That, and many other things."

Time passed by - soon, three hours later, you two were stumbling out of the bar and across the street to your apartment. "Y-you need to stay over t-tonight!" you insisted, trying to navigate through your blurry vision. "It's n-not safe!" You hiccuped, finding your door and unlocking it. You two stumbled inside, him nodding along with what you were saying.

Somehow, in your drunken state, you two managed to reach your bedroom. Through a hazy mind, you began getting dressed, stripping down in front of him as if he weren't there. Lafayette watched you curiously, sitting on your bed as you dressed. In some part of his mind, he knew that this was wrong - it wasn't something you two would ever think of doing. Still, he admitted that there was something very attractive with you right now.

Paying no mind to the man on your bed, you climbed onto it, falling asleep the moment your head hit the pillow. He smiled, brushing back your hair - and than his own exhaustion caught up with him, and he fell asleep next to you.

Let's just stay that you were very surprised in the morning. Waking up to your best friend - and long time crush - wasn't something that happened to you ... ever, actually. You turned bright red, feeling your heart start pounding - or maybe that was your head. Your groaned, vaguely remembering last night. You two hadn't ... you two didn't, right? Did he remember? Did either of you take advantage of the other?

Panic seized you, and suddenly you were on your feet and running to the bathroom. Once there, you preceded to empty everything from the last twenty-four hours into the toilet. You felt miserable and scared, terrified that you had made some very wrong decisions last night.

"Est-ce que tu vas bien? Oh non, qu'est-ce qui s'est passé?" You looked up to see Lafayette standing at the doorway, looking a lot less worse-for-wear, but seemingly worried. You noticed that he was wearing his clothes from last night, though you had pajamas. "J'ai à peine-"

"Laf," you reminded.

He sighed. "I barely had time to ask you what was wrong before you were in here. Are you alright?" he asked, walked over to you. He lent down and placed a hand on your forehead. "You're not sick - perhaps it's the hangover." You chuckled, nodding in agreement. Feeling a little better about the situation, you slowly got to your feet. He reached out to help you.

"Come on - I need Advil," you sighed, wobbling a bit. He nodded and began walking away, presumably to the kitchen. You followed him closely, trying to piece together what had happened last night. "Are you ... _aware_ if we did anything bad?" you wondered, hoping he would get the hint.

"Not that I know of." He turned around a bit to throw you a wink, which you took with a blush and a sigh. "Hey - when was the last time you were embrassé?" Ah, one of the few words you did know in French - _kissed_. "Because there's this guy that I think you would be great with, and I want to know how desperate you are."

"I've never ... well, I never thought-" you stuttered, feeling your face flame up. He raised an eyebrow, his look of curiosity turning to one of disbelief. "Oh, shut up, Laf!" you hissed, which emitted laughter from him. "It's not funny!"

"You've never - you've never kissed anyone!" he sputtered. For some reason, you felt tears well up in your eyes. Was he making fun of you? Did this new information downgrade you in his eyes? He seemed to realize your worries, because he made an effort to stop his giggles. "What have you been waiting for, beau?"

"I've just never had anyone to kiss," you admitted. Standing on the stairs of your apartment brought you two too close for comfort, you thought. He was standing at least five inches above you, arms crossed and a smirk plastered on his face. _Beautiful face ... wait, doesn't beau translate to beautiful? Is he calling me beautiful?_

"Oh, come on. Not anyone?"

"Not anyone I want."

"And what do you want?"

You bit your lip - a wave a bravery had suddenly overtaken you, making you take a step forwards so you were almost touching him. "I want someone tall ... with a nice personality. Someone who isn't afraid to stand for what they believe in - someone who will help their friends in times of need." Slowly, ever so slowly, a look of realization came across his face. You continued. "I want someone who's not afraid to kiss me, right now. Without any fear of what happens next."

Suddenly, he captured your lips into a fierce kiss, pushing you until your back hit the wall. His hands were all over you, seemingly not knowing where to go. You reached up to tangle your hands in his hair, feeling every single thought and emotion you'd ever had for him forcing itself out into the kiss.

It felt like hours until he pulled away, both of you panting for breath. You're heart was pounding against your ribs, but it wasn't because of terror. "I want _you_ , Laf."

"So I've gathered," he chuckled, leaning in closer to you. "How was that for a first kiss?"

"Perfect." You smiled up at him. "So, I heard French kissing is different to regular kissing - and that felt like regular kissing. Care to show me how their different?"

Again, he bent down to kiss you - this time, the kiss was slow and passionate, allowing you to slow down and think. _What am I doing? This is my best friend! If we break up - if something happens ... I don't think I could handle it._

But as his hands began unbuttoning your shirt, and he started leading you back to your bedroom, all your worries were shot down the drain. Who cared what happened next? It's like your friend, Alexander, always said - you needed to live in the moment.

You liked living in the moment.


	2. We Can't

You woke up in a daze, sunlight streaming through the window. It was the next day - or was it a few hours later? You couldn't recall what happened after you two had entered your bedroom. It was a blur of clothes and hands, but nothing beyond that. With a start, you noticed that the bed was empty. Well, besides you. Wondering where Lafayette had gone off to, you slowly got out of the rather comfortable bed and headed to the shower.

Finding the bathroom locked and the shower already started, you sighed and went downstairs to make breakfast. You vaguely reminded yourself that you needed to ask him what he had said yesterday, but you didn't think he would remember himself.

Reaching for your phone, you noticed seven missed calls from Alexander and twelve more from Eliza. Panicking - _what if something happened?_ \- you quickly called back Eliza, who answered on the first ring. "E - Eliza, calm down! - Eliza, what's going on?" Her sudden, rushed words brought relief to you're heart. "Yes, I am happy that you and Alex are going to have another child. Is there a reason you felt the need to call so many times?"

"Alex wants you to be godfather!/I want you to be the godmother!" she stated. A slow, delicate smile spread across your face at the news. You agreed happily before hearing the shower shut off and the door open. "Hey, what was that?"

"I may have gotten with someone," you informed her, rather shyly. She cheered with happiness, and you jumped, startled. "Christ, E, someone is going to go deaf. And by someone, I mean me!" She giggled, asking a million questions. _Who is it? Is it a friend? A stranger? You two didn't do the do, right? Oh my God, you did, didn't you!?_

Now it was your turn to laugh, just as Lafayette came downstairs, looking a bit worried. "Hey, I'll call you back. Yes, I promise. Okay, bye, Eliza!" You hung up, turning around and leaning against the counter. Unconsciously, you bit your lip, scared. He was walking towards you slowly, with that same worried look as before. You held your breath as he reached forwards and placed his hand on your cheek, bringing you in for a slow kiss.

You melted into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to almost reach his height. Reluctantly, you pulled back, leaning your forehead against his own. "What's wrong?" He stayed silent, closing his eyes. Was it your imagination, or was that a tear running down his cheek? "Laf, talk to me."

"We can't do this. We just _can't_ , [Y/N]," he stated, pulling back. Shock took over your thought - than despair, you're only thought being, _he used me. He used me and threw me away_. And before you could even speak, he was out the door without a word.

You sunk down, covering your head with your hands. Soft whimpers escaped your mouth as tears filled your eyes. He had actually done something you never would have expected - betrayed you. Reaching for your phone, you dialed the only person you knew would know what to do: Elizabeth Schuyler-Hamilton.

"What, now you're calling me?" she asked, giggling. You sniffed, and she immediately went quiet. "Meet me at the bar, yeah? I'll be down in ten."

"Thank you," you croaked, trying to get to your feet. Disgusted at the snot that came from your nose, you managed to stand up and wipe your nose as you headed outside. The bar was across the street, thank God. And even though Eliza had said ten minutes, she was over in three. You were a bit worried that she had killed someone along the way before she explained that she was just coming over to talk with you.

"What happened?" she demanded, noting your red eyes and slumped shoulders.

"The Mystery Man decided to dump me," you informed, not wanting to admit that you had gotten with your best friend. Subconsciously, you also didn't want Eliza to actually murder him when she discovered who it was. "H-he used me and than he just told me it couldn't happen!"

She bought you at least six shots, only stopping when you admitted that you were feeling a little woozy. "E - E, if I wasn't in love with Lafayette, I would so date you!" you slurred. She blushed a bright red before her eyes widened.

"L-Lafayette? Is he the Mystery Man?" You nodded, and she got an angry look on her face. Standing up, she left the bar, leaving you confused and a little nervous. With a sigh, you paid the bartender and slowly got to your feet, wobbling. You weren't as drunk as you were with Lafayette, but it was still enough that you didn't really know what to do now.

You walked out into the street, not seeing the oncoming car.

* * *

Lafayette hurried through the streets of New York, feeling as though his heart was breaking every step he took away from you. He knew it was cruel, telling you that and than leaving you before you two could talk. In truth, he was scared. _Terrified_ ,even.

You were his best friend - you were someone who was always there for him, but he knew that he wasn't always there for you. Of course he loved you. It was the reason he always slipped into French whenever he was around you - so you wouldn't understand every comment he made about you, every time he asked you out, every time he told his mother how beautiful you were.

He ended at the Hamilton residence, seeking advice.

Alexander opened the door, narrowing his eyes when he saw Lafayette standing there. "Oh, man, Eliza is _pissed_." He opened the door wider, allowing his friend to walk inside. "She's inside - do you have you phone? She's been trying to call you for a while now." Lafayette sighed, looking up the stairs. He could hear Eliza putting their son, Philip, to bed.

"Shit," Lafayette muttered, taking a deep breath. "Tell her I'm here, please? I think we both need to talk." Alex nodded, looking a little fearful for his friend's life. Still, he went upstairs as Lafayette went to sit in the living room. However, before he could even sit down, Eliza was down the stairs. "N-now, Eliza-"

A stinging pain laced up his cheek. "You are _so_ lucky it's illegal to kill people," she hissed. Lafayette nodded in understanding. "Do you know what you did to [Y/N]? Do you know how much you hurt them?" Lafayette tried to speak, but Eliza held up her hand. "No. No, no, no - you don't get to-"

"Eliza, let me talk!" he insisted. She crossed her arms, glaring at him but letting him continue. "I didn't come here to get yelled at - though God knows I deserve it. I came here because I need your advice."

"Well, my advice is to go and apologize for what you said!"

"Eliza," he sighed. He began explaining his part of the story - how he had noticed your beauty in elementary, when everyone had wanted you two to get together; how he had been in love with you since high school; how he had been asking you out in French since college. She listened intensely, smiling at every adorable part and frowning at every sad part. When he finished, she sat back, thinking.

"If you've been in love for so long, why did you leave?" she wondered.

"I was scared."

"Yeah? Well, you better be _terrified_ , Lafayette. I don't think you'll ever be forgiven."

He frowned. "I-" He couldn't even begin talking before his phone rang, startling in the silence. He quickly answered the call, not recognizing the number. "Hello?"

"Yes, is this ... Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette?" the caller asked, messing up almost all of his name. Lafayette sighed, hating the sound of his full name on a stranger's lips. "We're calling about the health of [Y/N] [M/N] [L/N]. This is the Bellevue Hospital Center." His heart seemed to stop - Eliza shared a worried glance with him as he took a deep breath.

"Yes, that would be me. What's wrong?"

"Earlier this morning, [Y/N] was it by a drunk driver." The silence that surrounded the news was deafening, and Lafayette felt like his world was slowly breaking. "We're sorry to say that it doesn't look good. They may not make it." With those last words, the caller hung up. Eliza sat back, tears welling in her eyes as Lafayette stood up.

"I need to go," he stated, already leaving the house. _Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. This is my fault. All my fault._ The thoughts wouldn't leave his head as he ran - _ran_ \- to the hospital. It was almost a mile away, but he couldn't care less. Out of breath when he arrived, Lafayette staggered into the hospital, heading straight for the desk.

"[Y/N] [M/N] [L/N]," he stated. The woman gave him a sympathetic look, asking him to stay in the waiting room while she called the doctor. He nodded and headed inside, noting that Burr and Peggy Schuyler were already inside, talking quietly. When Peggy spotted Lafayette, she ushered him over. "Did they tell you anything?" he asked.

"Nothing," Peggy sighed, scooting over so he could sit by her. "Just that it's bad."

"Did they get the driver?"

"No." Lafayette let out a heavy sigh, feeling anger burn in his body. God, if he _ever_ got his hands around the driver's neck ... well, let's just say that it wouldn't be pretty. "Hey, they said that they might make it." Almost as if reading her mind, the doctor came into the waiting room, nodding to Lafayette. He stood up, making his way over to the woman.

"[L/N] wants to see Lafayette for now," she told Peggy and Burr, who nodded in understanding. The doctor - _Mrs. Johnson_ \- lead him through twisting halls. Lafayette could barley keep track of how long it took to get there before he arrived at your hospital door. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand on the door handle, jittery as he opened the door.

"Laf?" you asked, eyes closed tightly. Your breathing was short and fast, pain hitting every part of your body. Everything was fuzzy except for Lafayette, who was as clear as day. He smiled weakly, tears welling in his eyes. "Laf..."

Blackness started to overcome your vision, and you panicked. The heart monitor spiked, causing Mrs. Johnson to force her way past Lafayette and to your bed. Lafayette lost his smile immediately, worry plastered over his face. "No, no, no, no. Don't you _dare,_ " he hissed. You couldn't help it - you giggled, which sent another burst of pain up your body.

"Lafayette," you sighed. You closed your eyes, hearing the heart monitor flat line.


	3. Past Is Past - END

_The boy peaked out from behind his mother's legs, staring at the child curiously. You smiled at him shyly, grabbing onto your mother's hand. "[Y/N], why don't you just say hi?" your mother scolded, giving the boy a bright smile. "It's not like he's going to bite!" You nodded hesitantly, stepping forwards. "This is [Y/N]," your mother stated, motioning to you. The boy's father gently pushed his son forwards._

 _"Vous êtes vraiment jolie," the boy mumbled. His father chuckled as his son flashed you a smile. "My name is Lafayette. Do you know French?" You shook your head, wondering what he had said the first time. "Oh. Well, I can make do with that." He suddenly seemed to radiate an air of confidence, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house._

 _"Kids." You heard the adults laugh with themselves as Lafayette pulled you through the house._

 _"Where are you taking me?" you questioned, smiling._

 _"I don't know. Let's play outside!"_

* * *

 _You flopped onto the couch, letting out a heavy sigh. Your backpack was dropped by the door, which startled Lafayette when he tried running after you. You giggled, sitting up. Eleven years of friendship and he still couldn't figure out your daily routine. "Vous savez, les gens en France ont beaucoup mieux que vous," he muttered._

 _You rolled your eyes, of course not understanding a single word except for 'France.' "Come on, Laf - we should just skip this stupid project. We both know Hamilton is just going to re-do everything even if Burr tells him not to!" you exclaimed, referring to you and Lafayette's best friends, Alexander Hamilton and Arron Burr. Of course, those two weren't the best of friends._

 _"Yes, but that's just mean - not doing anything, I mean," Lafayette stated. You sighed._

 _"Fine. We already agreed to meet at my house, anyways." Was it your imagination, or was he jittery? "Laf? What's up? What'cha thinking about?" He shrugged, taking a seat next to you. You sat up on your elbows, looking at him in a way that he was upside down. "Seriously, what's wrong? You've never shut up for this long."_

 _He chuckled. "Voulez-vous sortir avec moi?" he asked. You caught the word 'me,' but that was it. Seeing the look of your face, he quickly backtracked. "Je veux dire, si tu veux. Je ne veux pas que cela ruine notre amitié, et tu es un si bon ami et oh mon Dieu, c'est si stupide que je ... Je veux ..."_

 _"Laf," you sighed. "English. Please." He smiled._

 _"How are we going to get Hamilton and Burr to work together?_ _"_

 _"We can get Jefferson-"_

 _"I am not working with Jefferson_ or _Burr!" Alex exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air as he entered your room. Lafayette lost his smile and chose to force one, chuckling at his friend's words as Burr agreed, right behind him._

 _So much for you and Laf._

* * *

 _College. The bane of your existence._

 _France. The one thing you liked about college._

 _Well, other than Lafayette._

 _"Que nous sommes juste amis! Amis!" Lafayette stated, arguing with a woman on the other side of the counter. You were standing there, confused beyond measure, as he and the woman went back and forth. Maybe college was overrated. There was always online school, though you didn't think Laf would have liked that suggestion._

 _"Look - I have no idea what you two are on about, but can we just leave?" you whispered to Laf, who shushed you. "Fine." You leaned back, studying the woman. "Hey - call her out on the divorce." He gave you a weird look before turning back to her._

 _"Je ne parlerai à personne du divorce." Her eyes widened, and she quickly tossed him two room keys, one of which he handed to you. "H-how did you know-"_

 _"Well, I can't tell you all my secrets, can I? You already know my underwear size!" He blushed bright red, turning away as you pulled him into one of the larger buildings._

 _You never failed to amaze him._

* * *

The people got to their feet, your mother's sobs heard through all. Lafayette's father and mother were comforting her while their son stood over your casket, looking down at your pale and fragile body. "We are gathered here today to morn the loss of a very great soul," he stated, reading off of the cards. Tears filled in his eyes as he continued. "This soul was a perfect human who could - oh, fuck this," he sighed.

A few people gasped when he tossed the cards into the bin next to him. "Yeah, fuck this. [Y/N] was not perfect, and that's why they were everyone's favorite. They were human, with imperfections and flaws, just like everyone else. You think they would want us to remember them as nothing but perfect? I was their best friend - they relished their flaws! They thought it made them even more human, and I couldn't agree more.

"I'm saying fuck it to you're stupid ideals - [Y/N] would have none of it, and neither will I. I've been [Y/N]'s best friend since we were six - _six!_ We were there for each other for so long, and in their time of need, I wasn't. None of us were. And I'm ashamed of us. Of myself. But we need to move past this - do you thing [Y/N] would want us to just stand here? They would want us to cheer their existence. To remember their smile. To smile, even after death.

"So that's what I'm going to do. Smile. It may take a while, but I'll get there. We'll get there."

It was silent - deadly silent, and than Hamilton stood up, clapping his hands. Eliza stood next, wiping at her tears as she smiled at him. He could almost read her mind - _you're forgiven. You're forgiven, Lafayette._ And he smiled back, stepping back down from the podium as your mother got to her feet to shake his hand.

"[Y/N] always loved you," she admitted. He smiled gently.

"Yeah. I guessed." _I loved them, too. I always will._


End file.
